


a shorthand of existence

by supervisorhob (caughtinkhanded)



Series: things you said [1]
Category: The Black Tapes Podcast
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-26
Updated: 2017-04-26
Packaged: 2018-10-24 02:48:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,009
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10732575
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/caughtinkhanded/pseuds/supervisorhob
Summary: things you said at 1 a.m.; there is something about the dead of night that lends itself well to conversations.





	a shorthand of existence

i

_AR [04/12/16 1:03 AM]: can I ask you something, Dr. Strand?_

_RS [1:06 AM]: Yes, Alex?_

_AR [1:06 AM]: never mind. it’s late. I’m sorry for bothering you._

_AR [1:07 AM]: it’s not important. have a good night._

_RS [1:08 AM]: Are you still experiencing insomnia?_

_AR [1:08 AM]: how did you know I have insomnia?_

_AR [1:09 AM]: I never told you, right?_

_RS [1:11 AM]: Nic told me. He’s worried about you._

_AR [1:11 AM]: he has no right to be telling you that. it’s not his place_

_RS [1:12 AM]: He cares about you, Alex. There are a lot of people who care about you. You should take better care of yourself._

{…} {…} {…}

Alex rolled over in her bed, pressing her face to her pillow and letting out a contained scream. She was so tired.

She glanced at her phone again. No new messages.

_AR [1:14 AM]: good night_

ii

Alex fumbled for her phone, the bright screen burning her eyes after the prolonged darkness. Something had moved. She was sure of it. In the corner of her room. There was something there. She couldn’t move. Everything was frozen.

The thing in the corner moved again and there was a low hissing sound.

Every nerve in her body stood on end.

There was a murmur of words in a lost language.

Her fingers pressed painfully hard against the screen. She hesitated over the names in her favorites.

_Amalia Chenkova_   
_Dad_   
_Mom_   
_Lizzy Reagan_   
_Nic Silver_   
_Richard Strand_

When the shadow began to move again, Alex quickly pressed the name at the bottom of the list. It rang a few times before there was a groggy, “Hello?”

“I think there’s something in my apartment.” She rushed out, her voice an octave higher than normal.

There was a soft sigh on the other end of the line. “It’s just the fact that you’re barely sleeping. Your mind is playing tricks on you.”

“I’m not going crazy.”

“I know you’re not, Alex, but there is significant evidence that after a certain period with no sleep our brains struggle to process our surroundings.”

Alex tried to regulate her breathing like her sleep doctor had told. “I just want to sleep.” Her voice sounded sadder than she would’ve preferred. “I’ve tried everything. Nothing works. I just want to sleep.”

There was silence on the other end of the line.

“I’m sorry, Alex. You don’t deserve this.”

Alex stared at her ceiling, unwilling to move her eyes back towards the corner. The backs of her eyes burned with a lack of sleep. She felt as if there was a heavy weight covering her body.

She blinked slowly, the only other sound now her and Strand’s breathing. Darkness seemed to be creeping into her vision, but not the nefarious darkness that haunted her every moment. She blinked again, regulating her breathing with the sound of Strand’s breathing.

Her eyes finally shut, sleep settling lightly over her.

“Alex?” Strand’s voice was soft. “Are you asleep?” He paused. “Good night, Alex.”

iii

In Alex’s humble opinion, there was nothing quite as odd as motels in small towns. There was a sort of strange twilight zone-esque quality to them. The people who work at them are always just slightly off and the rooms look like they belong in a bad made-for-TV movie or something.

And yet, here she was, sitting in some dingy motel somewhere along the road from Washington to California.

Naturally, there was a massive storm and the road started to flood.

Alex fidgeted with her phone as the storm raged on outside.

A loud crack of thunder made Alex jump.

There was a low crunching noise before a chunk of her ceiling crashed to the ground beside the bed. The rain started pouring in.

Alex scrambled to repack all of her stuff as the water splattered up towards the bed. “Oh my god! Oh my god!” She dove across the bed to grab her recorder before the water could damage it. She managed to slide across the bed and got soaked in the process. “Shit, shit, shit.” She shoved the recorder in her bag, jumping over the puddle that was quickly forming on the cheap carpet.

There was another crack of thunder and the lights flickered. They flickered once, twice, before shutting off completely. She glanced out the window.

Alex watched the water dripping from her ceiling with a sigh. A knock at her door broke her out of her reverie.

She yanked the door open to find the hotel manager holding a newspaper over his head. “Evening, ma’am. I’m afraid that the storms taken out a power line.”

“And apparently the roof of my room.” Alex gestured behind her to the soaked floor.

The man muttered a curse under his breath, brushing past Alex to examine the hole. “Yep, that’s a hole all right. I can get you a bucket so it doesn’t flood.”

“Thanks, but I think I’ll just go to my fri-uh, colleague’s room.” She readjusted the strap of her bag before braving the storm. The manager called out to her but it was carried away on the wind. She ran across the small parking lot to Strand’s room, her jacket doing little to protect her from the rain.

She pounded on his door frantically, water dripping down her face.

The door finally swung open, revealing Strand with a bad case of bedhead. “Alex?” He asked groggily, running a hand through his hair. “What’re you doing here?”

Alex shifted nervously, suddenly realizing how strange she must seem to him. “Uh, the power’s out and there’s a hole in my ceiling and yeah….” Alex trailed off, her hands twisting the strap of her bag. “Can I come in?”

“Of course,” he quickly stepped aside to allow her in. “Were any of your belongings damaged?”

“No, I managed to grab it all before there was too much water.” Alex pushed her wet hair away from her face. “Jesus, my stuff is all completely soaked. Fuck.” She muttered, dropping her bag on the ground to try and find something undamaged.

“Here, let me see if there’s something of mine you can borrow.” As he dug through his bag, Alex felt her cheeks grow hot.

“Oh, no, that’s not necessary. I’m fine.” She stammered out.

Strand tossed her a look over his shoulder. “Don’t be ridiculous, Alex. You’re not going to just sit around in wet clothes. Here, you can take this.” He handed her one of his ‘conspiracy’ flannels. Alex took it numbly, vaguely aware of the burning in her cheeks. “You can hang your stuff up in the bathroom.” She nodded, not trusting her voice in that moment. She hurried off to the bathroom, her fingers tight on the flannel.

As soon as the door was closed, she pressed her forehead to it. “Oh my god…” When had her life become one walking trope? She peeled off her now soaking clothing and gingerly laid it across the bath.

Luckily, Strand was freakishly tall, so the shirt served as more of a dress for her. She tugged at the bottom nervously. There were some muffled voices outside. She stared at herself in the mirror, her hair already starting to curl from the rain.

She slipped out of the bathroom. Strand shut the door and turned back towards her, a small bag in hand.

“Whatcha got there?” She asked, leaning against the doorframe.

“Some candles from the manager. He said that they’re going to comp your room by the way.” Strand began to light the candles as Alex awkwardly perched herself on the edge of the bed. “Are you warm enough, Alex?”

She started a bit. “Oh, yeah, I’m fine.”

There was another flash of lightning that cast the room into dramatic shadows. Alex flinched slightly. Strand straightened up, the candle light flickering behind him. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I just, uh, don’t love thunderstorms.”

Strand smiled softly at her, the combination of his smile and the light made him seem years younger. “Charlie used to hate them when she was little. She used to crawl into bed with us every time there was a storm and she wouldn’t settle down until we read her a story.”

“My dad used to sing to me until I fell asleep.” She admitted.

“Do you sing?”

Alex chuckled lightly, “No, I definitely don’t. It sounds a bit like a bag of cats getting hit with a metal bat, at least according to my younger sister.” Strand joined her on the bed, although he sat further back on the bed.

“Your younger sister?”

“Yeah, Lizzy, she’s an architect in Vancouver. She’s two years younger than me.” Alex twisted her hands in the long sleeves as she glanced back at Strand. “She refuses to listen to the show actually.” Alex let out a laugh. “She says she doesn’t care if I want to go ghostbusting, but she prefers to stay in the real, scientific world.”

“She doesn’t believe in the supernatural?”

“Hm, she’s always been a little jumpy during horror movies so she’s probably just being a baby about it.” Alex shrugged one shoulder, causing her hair to fall into her eyes. Before she could brush it out of the way, Strand’s long fingers were sweeping along her cheekbone to move it away. “I’ll have to give her crap about it next time I see her.” She shifted slightly so she was not perched on the edge anymore.

Strand let out that breathy laugh that Alex lov-no, liked so much. “Siblings are fun that way.”

“How often do you see Carol?”

A flash of pain briefly burst behind Strand’s eyes. “We haven’t really spoken more than a handful of times since Coralee’s disappearance given that she thought I did it. I would describe our relationship as Christmas card friends.”

“Ah, right. I’m sorry. It’s not fair that you have to pay for something you didn’t do.” She stretched her hand out on the bedspread to brush their fingers together.

“Let’s not talk about Coralee right now.” Strand said stiffly, standing suddenly. Alex retracted her hand as if it had been burned. Strand bent down to his briefcase, rummaging around for something. Alex stared down at her hands, her heart sinking in her chest. “I knew I still had this in my travel bag.” He turned around, a bottle of wine in his hand.

“You travel with red wine?” Alex asked incredulously.

Strand chuckled again, a smile tugging at his lips. “No, no, a colleague gave it to me on my last trip. This seems as good a time as any.”

Alex glanced at the label and bit back a gasp. “That is a seriously nice bottle of wine for drinking in a motel room at,” she checked her watch, “12:34.”

Strand shrugged again, fiddling with the top of the bottle. “I probably would’ve just put it in my pantry and forgotten about it so I might as well share it with somebody I enjoy.” He said the last bit so nonchalantly Alex almost missed it. “Do you see any cups anywhere?”

“Um,” Alex stuttered, still thrown by his comment, “no, I don’t think so.”

“That’s fine, I guess we’re drinking out of the bottle.”

“How college of us.” Alex quipped as Strand finessed the cork out. “Nic and I used to play this game with wine. Or I don’t even know if was a game. Basically you just go back and forth asking questions and drinking and whoever gets the last sip owes the other person a drink. It’s sort of stupid, but most drinking games are.”

Strand settled on the bed again, his long legs stretched out in front of him. “Shall we play?”

“Aren’t we a little old for drinking games?”

“Are you calling me old, Ms. Reagan?” Strand asked, his eyes twinkling.

She flashed him a bright grin. “Dr. Strand, I would never.” She clutched a hand to her chest dramatically. “We can play if you want I guess.”

“You probably should come a bit closer.”

Alex pushed herself further up the bed until she and Strand were practically next to each other on the headboard. “I’m always asking you questions so why don’t you start?”

“What’s your favorite movie of all time?”

“Rear Window.” She answered quickly, accepting the bottle from him. She savored the wine for a moment. “That is a lovely wine.”

“I’ll get you a bottle when we’re back in Seattle.” He said casually and Alex’s heartrate suddenly accelerated. “Your turn.”

“Favorite song?”

“Baba O’Reilly.” Strand took a long sip of the wine, his eyes closing briefly.

Alex leaned forward in surprise. “You’re a Who fan?”

“Mhm, is that a surprise?”

“I dunno. I’m not sure if I would’ve pegged you for a classic rock fan.”

“What did you think I listened to? The unsound?” He asked with a bit of his raspy laugh.

“No,” she said quickly. “I was thinking more along the lines of Frank Sinatra or something.”

Strand nodded thoughtfully. “I’ve liked the Who since I was in high school.” He shrugged. “What’s your favorite band?”

“Either U2 or maybe Courtney Barnett or Glass Animals. Sort of depends on my mood.” She took the bottle from him.

As they traded questions and answers, Alex felt herself slowly relaxing and enjoying herself.

“What! You’ve never read Harry Potter? How are we even friends?” She leaned forward, poking his arm.

“I just never got around to it.” Strand said. He paused before adding, “Are we friends, Alex?”

Her mouth dropped open a bit, her voice catching in her throat. “Oh, I mean, I didn’t, you know…” She dragged her gaze away from him, studying her hands intently.

“Alex.” She lifted her chin, biting the inside of her cheek. “I’m sorry I didn’t mean it like that. I just…” He ran a hand through his hair. “We’re more than just colleagues, Alex.”

“We don’t have to do this.” Alex pleaded. She felt as if she was standing on a precipice, one wrong move and everything would come crashing down. The flashing numbers on the bedside clock caught her eye. “It’s past 1, maybe we should get some sleep.”

Strand’s hand reached for hers. “We haven’t finished the wine yet.”

“We don’t need to…”

“There’s just a bit left. I think it’s your turn.” He rubbed his thumb over her knuckles.

Alex hesitated. “Do you want to be friends?”

“No.” He said without a moment’s pause. Alex bit down on her lip to stop any noise escaping her. Strand drank from the bottle. “My turn.” She looked at him, fighting to keep her composure. “Can I kiss you?”

She stared at him blankly. Then she suddenly came to her senses. “Kiss me?”

“Yes.” He gently cupped her cheek, his hand warm against her skin. “Kiss you.” She managed to nod, her nerves making themselves very much known.

He leaned forward and she moved to meet him halfway. His lips were softer than she had imagined and his stubble scratched her cheeks. She rested her hands on the back of his neck, tangling in his hair.

They pulled away, foreheads touching.

“I don’t want to be just friends, Alex, I want more.”

She grinned breathlessly. “I think I can handle more, Richard.”

iv

Alex rolled onto her side, nudging Strand with her elbow. He glanced up from his book, his glasses slipping down his nose. “Yes, dear?”

“Are you okay?” She asked softly, propping her head on her hand. “I mean, with the whole Coralee thing.”

Strand sighed, setting his book down on the bedside table where the clock glowed 1:11. He shifted closer to her. “If you asked me 5 years ago what I would’ve done if Coralee came back for good, the answer would’ve been run back to her and try to fix things.” Alex flinched slightly, her insecurities rising to the surface.

“Oh.”

Strand pulled her closer until she was curled against his side. “That was five years ago. That was before some person called my office eleven times asking to meet with me. That was before the Black Tapes. That was before I learned that Coralee left of her own accord. That was before I knew you. That was before I fell in love with you.” He pressed a kiss to the top of her head.

She twisted in his grip to look at him fully. “You’re in love with me?”

“You sound surprised, darling.”

“I love you too.”

“And I you.”

v

Alex woke suddenly, sitting straight up in their bed. She instinctively looked to the corners, even though it had been a number of years since her bout of insomnia. There were no shadows there. Everything was fine.

She reached across the bed to find Richard, but it was empty. Her brow furrowed as she listened for some sort of noise in their house. Grabbing an old college sweatshirt of Richard’s, she stood, wincing slightly at the cold floor.

She padded quietly through the house towards the other bedroom.

“Hush little baby, don’t say a word, papa’s gonna buy you a mocking bird. And if that mockingbird won’t sing, papa’s gonna buy you a diamond ring.”

Alex watched from the door as Richard rocked their son gently in his arms. A soft smile tugged at her mouth as she leaned against the doorframe.

“Look, Theo, it’s Mommy.” Richard turned towards her, showing her their sleeping son. She stepped into the room, joining them in the middle of the room. Theo’s eyes were closed and he was breathing softly.

“You could’ve woken me up, Richard.”

“You needed the sleep, darling.” He leaned over Theo to press a kiss to her lips. “I never get tired of doing that.” He sighed.

“You are so sappy. Who would’ve thought the great Doctor Richard Strand would be so cheesy?” She let out a breathy chuckle, mindful not to wake Theo.

“Only for you, Alex, only for you.”

**Author's Note:**

> hope you enjoyed! this was my first foray into TBTP fandom. most likely this will be part of a series of unrelated one-shots using the things you said prompts. 
> 
> there's a fairly subtle harry potter reference in this, super kudos to you if you can find it! 
> 
> please say hi on tumblr at jvn-erso
> 
> ~ebh


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